It’s Not Lying if it’s Christmas…
by Emmylou
Summary: We all know what Luna believes in, but what about what she doesn’t? Is a nice lie better than a cruel truth?


**Title**: It's Not Lying if it's Christmas…

**Author**: Emmylou

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the related characters or settings created by JK Rowling.

**Rated**: PG

**Summary**: We all know what Luna believes in, but what about what she doesn't? Is a nice lie better than a cruel truth?

* * *

Luna said the cruellest thing an adult can say on the day before Christmas. It silenced an entire room full of people – with the exception of Belle, Bill Weasley's youngest daughter, who burst into tears. 

Hermione flushed angrily and she, Ron, and a rather alarmed Harry half-dragged Luna from the sitting-room.

"You can't tell Children there's no such thing as Father Christmas!" she hissed.

Luna stared back in an infuriatingly calm manner. Harry wondered why she had said what she had, feeling both embarrassed and shocked. He was aware that Ron was glaring at him with a 'This is what you get for dating her' kind of expression.

"But there isn't," said Luna.

"There's no Pilfering Kerflup or…or Doodling Scullfish either," snapped Hermione. "But you talk about those enough!"

"The existence of the Pilfering Kerflup is debateable," said Luna. "You _know_ there is no such thing as Father Christmas."

"Yes I do know!" snapped Hermione. "That's not the point!"

"Yeah," said Ron. "Kiddies believe in him."

"Until they find out he's not real and are often so disappointed that they have a hard time believing in anything else afterwards," Luna had begun speaking as calmly as ever, but as she finished her tone was full of ringing accusation. "The Tooth-Fairy! The Easter-Bunny! Aliens! You lie until all their belief is gone!"

"So they don't waste their adult lives believing things like the tripe you cook up in your rag!"

Luna froze. Harry knew that Luna was well aware of Hermione's opinion of The Quibbler's subject matter – but that had to have stung none-the-less. He and Ron sensed that this was the moment to step in and steer their girlfriends away before un-reparable damage occurred.

"Just- just go out there and say you lied!" snarled Hermione as Ron grasped her arm and drove her towards the door.

"The truth isn't always nice!" called Luna after her. "I will do no such thing!"

Harry took Luna's arm and guided her firmly towards the kitchen door.

"I think a walk would be nice," he said tiredly. "Until things have calmed down, anyway."

They stepped out side, their socks immediately damp from the snow and hobbled into the Wellington Boots leaning against the wall. Neither of them spoke for a moment, but Luna seemed to see what he wanted to talk about.

"I won't lie, Harry. I've never lied about anything."

"I know Luna," he said, scratching his head. "But ignorance is bliss and all that…why didn't you keep quiet?"

"Harry…I'll never be the sort of person who can let a lie like that continue," she said.

"Then you're not going to be a popular person."

"I never was, but I thought you like me anyway."

"I do," he sighed. "But I agree with Hermione."

They stomped through the snow in silence once more, moving through trees until they reached a kissing gate leading through a field blanketed in white. Luna opened it, stepped around to the other side, closed it to get out, and turned to face Harry, holding the gate shut.

"So you think I should lie?"

"No," said Harry. "I just wish you'd kept quiet."

"That doesn't give me a solution," she said faintly. "Why is Father Christmas such a wonderful thing anyway? My parents didn't have that much money when I was young and I knew that sometimes it was hard on them to afford the presents they got me…I respected and loved them ten times over for what they did for me. Isn't it better I knew that the gifts came out of their love rather than the benevolence of a stranger?"

"I-" Harry tried to get his thoughts in order. "Do what you want, I'll still love you, but think how you'd feel if you found out the Crumple-Horned Snorkcack wasn't real."

Luna let go of the gate and allowed him to pass into the field. "I'll do what I think is best Harry, I promise you that."

The children's questions and crying were still in full swing when they got back. Luna had sat in silence while most of the Weasley brood glared at her and refused to speak at all no matter how many times the children pleaded to know why she didn't think Father Christmas existed.

At dinner, when the mood became insufferable and Harry was about to plead an early bed in order to fix his headache, Hermione decided to set about damage control. "Father Christmas does exist!" she said with strained cheer. "Luna was just…just…"

"Pulling your legs!" cried Mr. Weasley.

"You see, nothing to worry about," said Mrs. Weasley, spooning extra broccoli onto Ron's plate.

Luna pushed her carrots around her plate, still not speaking. Every eye was on her and everyone knew the children would accept no answer unless it came from her.

"I uh…think it's time for bed," said Harry awkwardly after a while. "Er…tomorrow coming more quickly and all that…goodnight."

He pushed his knife and fork together and stood, fully expecting Luna to gratefully follow, but she remained in her seat.

"Luna? Aren't you tired?"

"Not really, no, I shall be up later I expect."

"Oh," said Harry, feeling a bit stupid to have his plan backfire but a bit relieved to at least have an excuse to leave the room. "Uh…later then."

VVV

"Harry! Wake up!"

Luna's bony fingers were gripping his shoulder and shaking him rather unpleasantly. Harry groaned. He had fallen asleep fully dressed and lying on the outside of the covers, he felt as though he'd been sleeping on a rock.

"Luna? What time 's it?" He shivered and rubbed at his eyes blearily, pushing himself up onto his elbow. "Why didn't you come to bed?"

Luna was standing over him, holding a candle and holder in one hand. She was still dressed; her wand was tucked in the belt of her dress. She put the candle down and sunk onto the bed beside him, her hands taking hold of both of his shoulders in excitement.

"It's three in the morning Harry," she whispered. "Everyone is asleep."

"So was I," said Harry.

"I've decided what to do," she said, eyes gleaming.

"Oh good."

"I can't lie. But it's cruel to tell the truth. So then it came to me!"

"What did?"

"I'll tell them what they want to hear – but I won't lie!"

Harry blinked and pushed himself up properly. "But there _is_ no-"

"_Shh_!" she whispered. "It's a good thing the shops to last minute orders – for forgetful people I expect – poor Hedwig needed almost five owls to carry it all."

"All what?"

"The presents Harry, look."

Harry looked. In the dim light of their bedroom he could see bags and bags of parcels. Brightly coloured wrapping paper peeked up at him and as she lifted the bag closest to her onto the bed there was a definite sound of bells.

Luna rummaged around in the brown sacking bag in front of her and started talking again in a fast whisper.

"I was feeling very low and I was peeking through a copy and "Strange Gifts and Where to Buy Them" to cheer myself up when I saw _this_!"

She removed a photo-frame from the bag and pushed into his hands. Harry squinted down at it, trying to figure out what he was looking at. It was, at first, a rather odd picture of a rather bony Father and Mother Christmas, but as he looked properly he saw that it was actually a photograph of himself and Luna. The picture versions of them had been charmed so that they now wore red and white, a snowy beard had sprouted on the picture of him and Luna's cheeks seemed a good deal rosier than he remembered the picture having been. Above the strange photograph was a badly printed little phrase:

H_A_RRY CHRISTMAS!

"They offered this service in the magazine – have any picture Christmas-ised and with a message of your choice!" Luna beamed.

"Uh, thanks," said Harry.

"Doesn't it all make sense now Harry?"

"Not really."

Luna's smile didn't fade. "If anyone looks at the picture they would have to concede that you and I are Father and Mother Christmas."

"But we're not."

"Yes we are," she said softly. "We are dressed as them and so, should anyone ask, we have actual, real proof that we are who we say we are."

"Why would anyone ask? I'm already the Boy-Who-Lived and The Chosen-One…I can't handle Father Christmas too…it's three in the morning!"

"And we've got lots to do!" she beamed. With a smile and pausing only to brush some sleep out of his eye, she stood up and began shifting the bags around.

When he had reluctantly gotten up she pushed the bag the photo had come from into his arms. "I've got you some new robes. Put them on. Then we can get started."

"Why do I need to…?"

"_Shh_!"

He gave in and began pulling his jumper over his head, he couldn't believe this…

"Perfect Harry!" she whispered.

"I'm dressed as Father Christmas!" he hissed. He wanted to go back to bed; he wanted to have tomorrow over. He wanted to know what on earth was _going on_…

"I know…look – we match."

He looked down, noticing too late that Luna had already been wearing the Mother Christmas outfit when she had woken him up. She looked…warm and glowing actually. Giving was a good word…she looked giving.

"Now," she said, in a matter-of-fact tone that reminded Harry of Hermione when she was planning something, "I have made a list of all the children in the household. I am handing it to you now – check it once and then once more – it is apparently important that you get this bit right."

Harry looked down at it.

_Belle Weasley: Good_

_Victoria Weasley: Good_

_Lottie Johnson-Weasley: Good_

_Abigail Johnson-Weasley: Good_

"Er…it seems okay…"

"Be very specific Harry. Do you think these children have been good?"

"Yes-"

"Check again."

"It's fine!"

Luna beamed. "Now we can get started."

Harry had no time to ask just what, exactly, she intended to 'get started' with, for she was already tiptoeing out of the bedroom, a large sack over her shoulder. He followed her as quietly and quickly as he could, but she was already waiting in the snow outside the Burrow long before he had navigated the dark and creaking staircase or the groaning floorboards in the hall.

It was icy outside, Harry had neglected to put on any shoes and so had to stumble into the black and slightly damp Wellington Boots he'd left earlier on the back steps. While he was doing this Luna had deposited the sack next to him and tiptoed off to the broom-shed.

"I should've got you to bring your broom," she said absently, "but it doesn't matter – this Cleansweep 7 will be fine. She set it up so that she could scramble onto it and leave enough room for him to climb on too, and after a strange balancing act in which Harry, Luna and the bag of gifts had all nearly fallen off at once, they managed to get up in the air and begin a shaky circle of the house.

"Right…that's enough flying," said Luna.

Harry, who had just begun to rather like the refreshing feeling the cool air and warmth of Luna next to him was having, made a noise of protest, but Luna was already steering them towards the highest part of the roof. They skidded to a stop and Harry gripped the chimney for support as he, Luna, and the bag dismounted. Luna put her hand against the chimney and smiled.

"No fires lit tonight- they didn't want to burn anybody's bottom."

"Luna," said Harry tiredly, "why are we up here? How is running around dressed like Father Christmas going to help you decide what to tell those children? It'll still be a lie…"

"We'll see…" she smiled prettily at him, "but first- down we go."

Harry knew she meant the chimney, but somehow he could not bring himself to speak or protest as Luna scrambled over the chimney and dropped her legs into it, lowering herself down. He suddenly realised that she was honestly going to let go at fall at least seven storeys down to the kitchen fireplace.

"Luna! No!"

She grabbed his hand just as she let go, unfortunately he slipped on the icy roof and so he, Luna, and the bag of presents suffered a hellish plunge in total darkness.

Luna got the worst of it, he decided later. The bag hit her in the stomach, winding her, and although she had desperately rolled across to get out of his way, he had still partly landed on her arm. What did surprise him was the soft ground beneath them – no cauldrons, no logs, no metal grates...

"Cushions?" he grunted.

"Hermione had all the children put pillows there to 'Break Santa's fall'. She glared at me while she said it too."

"Great," he groaned and pushed himself onto his knees, half crawling; he managed to move out of the fireplace and stand up, followed closely by Luna.

She smiled and took his hand, placed a finger to her lips, and began a slow tiptoe up the stairs. She danced from one side to the other to avoid the creaky spots and after a ridiculously long time spent climbing less than ten steps they stood outside the room that had, in Harry' mind, always been 'Percy's room' but had once been and was once again being used by Bill.

"Victoria Weasley – eight – good. Belle Weasley – five – good," supplied Luna. She rustled the bag and retrieved two gifts. "Put them in their stockings. Drink the milk they left out too!"

Harry suddenly wished he had his invisibility cloak, Percy's room was only slightly larger than Ron's and there would be four people in there. He sighed and pushed open the door.

It was very dark as Harry shuffled across the floor, desperate not to wake up Bill or Fleur and have to explain this…

The blonde heads of Belle and Victoria were nestled in the pillows on their camp-beds…please let them really be asleep…

There were four stockings hanging on the end of the double bed, all of them stuffed with gifts. Harry took a deep breath, tiptoed closer to the bed, and pushed the two gifts into what he hoped were the right stockings before fleeing the room.

"Lottie and Abigail Johnson-Weasley, both good," said Luna as they huddled outside the next bedroom.

"Can we go to bed after this?"

"Hurry up, they'll hear you."

Harry took each gift, stuffed one under each arm, and once again tiptoed into the bedroom…he could see Fred and Angelina asleep in their bed, but where were Lottie and-

There was suddenly a noise like a claxon. A net descended from nowhere and a luminous sign fell into place so that it pointed at him. It read:

STOP PINCHING OUR PREZZIES

Harry had frozen in place, waiting for Fred or Angelina to move. Angelina made a snorting noise and rolled over and Lottie mumbled in her sleep but nothing else happened. Surely…surely someone had woken up because of it.

In these moments you can't help perversely testing the waters. He coughed gently.

Nothing happened.

Feeling much, much better, and with the end it sight, he waved his wand and freed himself. He was unable to do anything about the net or the sign, so he slipped the presents underneath the net, where they'd be quickly spotted and tiptoed out onto the cool landing.

"Done," he whispered in a tone that said that it was through no help of Luna's. "They had a trap in there!"

"Oh, did they go ahead and build it?" said Luna interestedly. "They said they always wanted to build something like that- I must ask them if I can see it."

"Go in there holding a present and believe me, you'll get a great view," said Harry.

They staggered up the steps towards their room.

"I had a lovely night Harry," said Luna.

Harry didn't know what to say. It had not been a great night. "I wouldn't have done that for anyone but you, Luna."

VVV

Christmas day had come all too quickly for a sleep deprived Harry, but once the festivities were in swing he felt much better.

The children were playing with their toys, Mr. Weasley was disappointed that not one of the children's toys needed a battery, and Mrs. Weasley was cooking up a storm in the kitchen and Harry, Ron, and Hermione lounged about clutching bottles of Butterbeer while Harry wondered whether to tell them about the events of the last night.

"Did Father Christmas come after all, then?" asked Hermione to Lottie, who was sitting nearest to her. Harry didn't miss Hermione's pointed look at Luna.

"I think Auntie Luna's right," said Lottie miserably. "We set a trap for Father Christmas with a jokey sign, but it fell down. Any real Santa would have been caught."

"Any _real_ Santa would have got away," said Hermione.

"Yes Hermione," said Luna suddenly. "I would just like to say that I saw a famous man wearing a read cloak and black boots fly onto this roof last night, come down that chimney there, and leave each of you children a present."

The smiles of the children lit up the room and Harry saw Hermione nod thankfully to Luna.

Harry grinned. It wasn't honest. But it wasn't a lie.

Fin.


End file.
